


Dirt Bikes and Dirty Dykes

by illhaveapepperonytogoplease



Category: Ocean's 8 (2018), Ocean's Eleven Trilogy (Movies)
Genre: F/F, Fluff and Smut, Quickie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-15
Updated: 2018-08-15
Packaged: 2019-06-28 00:58:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15696912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/illhaveapepperonytogoplease/pseuds/illhaveapepperonytogoplease
Summary: "You're lucky if you have five minutes.""I only need three."





	Dirt Bikes and Dirty Dykes

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading my work and leaving comments and kudos, I really appreciate every single one of you who takes time out of your day to read my work. Have a wonderful day :)

“Louise _Catherine_ Miller,” Debbie scolds loudly and dramatically, laughing when Lou jolts beneath the bike, rolling herself out from under it and glaring at the Ocean with a surprising amount of anger for startling her. “Get away from Nathan’s dirt bike, Tammy’ll kill you.”

She gets to her feet, grease and oil smudges on her hands, shirt, and face, saying, “Which is why she’s not going to find out, right,  _honey_?”

Debbie considers this for a second-because what’s a childhood without a little bit of secrecy and fun?-before asking as she hands Lou a cup of coffee, “How fast can he go?”

“Not that-”

“How fast?” She presses, knowing Lou wouldn’t ever purposefully put one of her friend’s children in danger but she would let them test out their wild side and soup up their bike so they can go one hundred miles an hour on a vehicle that wasn’t meant to go past fifty.

“Sixty…” Lou trails off, unable to hold Debbie’s gaze so she answers honestly, hiding her face behind the coffee mug as she mutters, “Seventy, maybe eighty if he’s on an open field.”

“He’s eight years old, baby.”

“I changed out the brakes, too, he’ll be fine, Deb.”

“You know what?” Debbie asks, a smile tugging at her lips as she takes in Lou’s dirty face, completely makeup free and still managing to look drop dead gorgeous at seven in the morning. “It was nice knowing you, hopefully I get all your possessions after your death and you don’t donate everything to some school so it can have a Lou Miller Hall, because Tammy will _fucking_ murder you if Nathan gets hurt.”

Lou laughs, taking a long sip of coffee before she asks, “How do you know all my money’s not going to my secret lover?”

“Please,” Debbie scoffs, waving her hand dismissively, “You couldn’t keep a mistress from me if I was a blind mute.” Lou hums in agreeance on that one; as if Debbie wasn’t intelligent enough on her own, she had hoards of criminals who specialized in many different forms of crime that would come to her call and tell her anything she needed to hear. “Hey-” Debbie playfully slaps Lou’s hand away when it reaches for her “-no touchy, you’re a mess.”

“ _Clearly_ ,” Lou grabs her with the hand not holding her coffee mug, arm wrapping around Debbie’s waist, “you haven’t looked in a mirror yet this morning.”

Debbie laughs into their kiss, the smell of engine grease and motor oil overwhelming her nose, making her tug Lou a little harder, a little closer. Lou’s hand travels up under Debbie’s plain black shirt-Tammy had very firmly stated that if they were going to sleep in her house, they’d have to wear modest shirts and shorts in the morning, otherwise  _they_ will be the ones answering questions about thongs and why Aunt Debbie and Lou wear them because don’t they get wedgies-and the Ocean retaliates by resting her hand in the waistband of Lou’s leather pants. With filthy,  _filthy_ thoughts, she realizes that Lou isn’t wearing any underwear.

“So much for Tammy’s Puritan dress code, huh?” Debbie asks teasingly, barely nipping at the skin behind Lou’s ear, fingers moving further south to grab ahold of Lou’s ass.

“ _Tammy_ -” she inhales sharply when Debbie pulls her forward, rubbing her knee between Lou’s thighs “-doesn’t tell me what to do.”

“Mmm-hmm,” Debbie hums against Lou’s neck while she sets her coffee mug on a shelf in Tammy’s garage, quickly doing the same for Lou’s before the Aussie gets pressed into the wall, one knee between her legs and a determined mouth on her neck.

“Deb-” Lou pushes her off, only _after_ there’s a bite mark on her pale neck, and looks at her, pouty lips and bedroom eyes completely contradicting her serious tone as she says, “Not here, Nathan and Madison are already awake.”

Debbie ignores her for a few moments, unbuttoning the button on Lou skin-tight pants, slipping her hand underneath the leather as she mumbles against her mouth, “Gotta make it quick, then.”

“You’re lucky if you have five minutes,” Lou says breathlessly, hips grinding down on Debbie’s hand, the wetness between her thighs not heightened to what it _could_ be, but more than enough for a quick fuck.

“I only need three,” Debbie returns confidently, knowing she’d done it in two before but that was a little different-they’d turned it into a competition and they’d had an entire king sized bed to use. Debbie couldn’t eat her out now, not with the very real risk of Tammy’s innocent, angel-baby, Christian kids walking in. “Just…” She trails off, placing a wet kiss on Lou’s lips, feeling her gasp when her fingers brush against her hot center. “Keep quiet.”

Lou disobeys the order right away when Debbie buries two fingers in her, a surprised moan ripping out of her throat and Debbie laughs against her neck, licking at a bead of sweat as it makes it way down Lou’s skin. The garage was warm to begin with and this certainly didn’t make it any cooler.

“Shhh-” she chides, roughly thrusting her fingers into Lou, the way she throws her head back against the wall sending a wave of heat through Debbie “-be quiet.”

Debbie’s pick up the pace, her thrusts hard and deep, fingers slightly curled so she’s hitting Lou’s sweet spot with every thrust. Lou’s unable to keep quiet-she’d never been able to-and the breathy moans spur Debbie on, make her rub the heel of her hand against Lou’s clit every few thrusts.

“Oh  _fuck_ ,” Lou breathes, eyebrows furrowed in pleasure, face scrunched up in anticipation, “Right there, baby, yeah, fuck me right there-” Debbie curls her fingers more noticeably, the movement immediately earning her a pleasure-filled hum as Lou bites down on her bottom lip. “Yeah- _yeah_!-”

The high pitched, sexy cry makes Debbie unbelievably wet and she grinds her hips down on the first thing she can find-Lou’s knee-and it doesn’t go unnoticed by the Aussie.

“You like that, huh?” Lou asks teasingly, her lips curled into a devilish smile as Debbie thrusts deeper, wanting that goddamn smirk off her face. “You- _fuck_ -” The curse is drawn out, moaned in a low voice, deep in the back of Lou’s throat, and just a _little_ too loud to be ignored.

“Lou.” Debbie stills her fingers entirely, meeting Lou’s frustrated and passionate blue eyes. “If you don’t be quiet, we _will_ get caught.”

Lou doesn’t say anything in response, instead rolls her hips against Debbie’s fingers, back arching at the feeling. She tugs at Debbie slightly, pulling her forward and attaching her hot mouth to the spot where her neck turns into her shoulder.

Debbie thrusts her fingers into Lou again, rougher, harder, and deeper than before while rubbing her thumb in small circles over Lou’s clit, genuinely worried that _someone_ is going to walk in on them at any second-Lou had been too loud to be ignored earlier. She can feel Lou’s devious tongue running over the skin of her neck and just the feeling of _that_ makes her falter for the briefest of seconds.

No one could do that except Lou.

Debbie's always been the dominant one in every relationship she’d been in, even with Claude she’d been in charge of him ninety percent of the time, but she and Lou were equals. They always evened the score-who was on top one night was on the bottom the next, whoever came last had to give next, and neither minded because they were both breathtakingly good at sex.

That had always been the problem with sex for both of them before they met each other; they spent so much of their time working to make the person they’re sleeping with feel amazing that their own itches were never fully scratched.

No one but Lou could make Debbie damn near come just from a hickey and filthy words moaned in her ear.

She feels Lou’s muscles tighten around her fingers and she presses her thumb roughly against Lou’s clit, rubbing a few quick circles as Lou moans against her neck, mouth attacking the skin there to keep herself from being too loud.

Vaguely, Debbie feels Lou’s furrowed eyebrows on her neck but she doesn’t have a second to consider what Lou looks like right now, not when her downright sinful mouth is latched onto Debbie's skin, teeth undoubtedly marking the area for a week or two. Lou knows where to leave the hickey, right above Debbie’s collarbone on a spot that’s always been a tad more sensitive than the rest of her skin, one that feels a lot better than it has any right to when Lou’s got her mouth on it. She’s sucking the area so hard, trying _so_ hard not to moan as she comes, that Debbie wouldn’t be surprised if she draws blood.

Debbie works her down from her high slowly, feeling Lou’s body relax against hers, the sucking on her neck lessening until Lou removes her mouth, the rush of stinging pain surprising Debbie a little when she’s finally able to feel without lust clouding her nerves.

Lou faces her with a shameless grin, eyes half-lidded and face practically glowing until Debbie’s fingers run up the full length of her center quickly, just to see her jump, and she removes them from Lou’s pants, cleaning them off in her own mouth, making a show of hollowing her cheeks as she does it.

“I _hate_ you,” Lou breathes as she cups Debbie’s jaw, pulling her into a rough kiss that has teeth clashing and tongues fighting, mouths wide against each others.

“No you don’t,” Debbie laughs when she pulls back minutes later, face so close to Lou’s that their lips brush as she says it.

“I don’t but-” Lou lets out an incredibly sexy laugh, eyes stuck on Debbie’s neck “-you might hate me once you see that mark.” Debbie’s fingers cover the hickey instinctively, running over the skin and pulling away, checking for blood-which there’s not. “For the love of Christ, Debs, I’m not _Dracula_.”

“Never said you were,” Debbie responds, feigning seriousness as she says, “That’s not fair to him, he’s _half_ your age.”

Lou’d had her fiftieth birthday the week before and, while Debbie’s three years older than her, the team couldn’t get enough of teasing her for being so old. Constance had actually gone out and bought a huge Bible, handcrafted leather and all, for some joke about Lou knowing the authors from when she was a child, which promptly got her involved in an argument with Amita over whether Christianity or Hinduism was older-Amita won by a 2300 to 1500 year landslide.

“Shut up,” Lou laughs, shoving Debbie off of her, releasing the hands that had become attached to the thin, leather-clad hips in the midst of their kiss. “You’re older and they never gave you shit for being fifty, why’s that?”

“I guess I just don’t look it, baby,” Debbie teases, wincing when Lou slaps her arm, coffee splashing out of Debbie’s mug and onto the floor. Debbie takes a rag from the rack in the garage, quickly mopping up the mess as she says, “Jesus, I was _joking_ , I think you broke my fucking arm.”

“You want me to kiss it, make it better?” Lou mocks, talking to her like she’s a small child as her arms are crossed, a fake angry expression on her features-features that definitely don’t look a day over forty, let alone fifty.

“Depends,” Debbie arches her eyebrow slightly, gauging the way Lou reacts, wondering how soon they could get to their room from here without anyone noticing. “Is the kissing only reserved for-holy  _shit_ -” She catches her reflection in the mirror on Nathan’s bike, touching the hickey on her neck. “It looks like you _strangled_ me, babe.”

“Make up your mind, am I Chris Brown or Dracula?” Lou asks, approaching her slowly, hand resting on the base of Debbie’s neck, thumb running over the mark soothingly.

Debbie laughs, shaking her head as she leans in to kiss Lou’s still-swollen lips, mouth open before she even reaches Lou’s, tongues meeting halfway and hands roaming over each other’s bodies.

She’s so unbelievably grateful they didn’t lose their touch, with nearly six years in jail and almost four years of marriage now, and that neither seem to be losing their sex drive at any point in the near future. It’ll be a fucking tragedy the day that she and Lou don’t see the fun in sex. Half-mast flags, everyone dressed in black, pins of remembrance for some of the greatest sex lives to ever exist. She might just-

“ _Mommy_!” Madison’s high-pitched call from the doorway makes them jump apart, mirrored expressions of annoyance on their faces as the little brat decides to rat them out, “Aunt Debbie and Lou are kissing _again_!”


End file.
